


Technical Support

by roe87



Series: Shrunkyclunks au's [12]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barbecue, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Casual Sex, Commander Rogers, Dirty Talk, Flirting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hell Yeah Bottom Bucky Valentine's Exchange 2021, Humor, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mild Smut, Minor Monica Rambeau/Sam Wilson, Mission Fic, Nerd Bucky Barnes, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, SHIELD, SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes, Sassy Bucky Barnes, Sassy Steve Rogers, Shrunkyclunks, Silver Fox Steve Rogers, Smut, Thirsty Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Undercover Missions, Valentine's Day Fic Exchange, Voyeurism, Workplace Relationship, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29638731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roe87/pseuds/roe87
Summary: Bucky, a class A nerd, works at a desk as communications support for top field agents in S.H.I.E.L.D.Usually, Bucky works with Sam, but as it's Sam's birthday he has the weekend off and Bucky is paired up with another field agent on assignment.Bucky wasn't expecting it to be none other than the legendary Commander Rogers (on whom he has something of a major crush)---For the Hell Yeah Bottom Bucky Valentine's Exchange
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Shrunkyclunks au's [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1350988
Comments: 59
Kudos: 341
Collections: Hell Yeah Bottom Bucky





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kickflaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickflaw/gifts).



> You know that movie, Spy (2015)?? I took a lot of inspiration (and the opening scene) from that. It's a great movie btw.  
> Enjoy the fic!
> 
> This is for Kickflaw. Happy Valentine's!
> 
> ~~~

"I've invited Monica to my birthday," Sam said, as he drove along the picturesque country road.

Bucky smiled. "Of course you have. Wait, it's a barbecue, right?"

"In my backyard," Sam said, his voice clear through Bucky's earpiece. "You still coming?"

"And turn down free meat?" Bucky teased, picking the smoothie cup off his desk for a loud slurp. "Wouldn't miss it, buddy."

"Very funny," Sam quipped back. "I mean it, Bucky. I need my wing man."

"You don't need me," Bucky said, swinging side to side in his office chair. "Monica likes you already. But that's sweet, though. I'll be there, man. I'll even make some rum punch for you."

"You better," Sam replied.

Bucky laughed, looking at the monitors in front of him. He had Sam's POV on his main screen, through the Shield contact lens he wore in one eye. Sam was still driving down the road to the target location: an old country house on the shore of Lake Maggiore, Italy.

Bucky had multiple angles of the house itself and its grounds on his other screens, from Shield satellite and drone surveillance.

"Damn, that house is nice," Bucky mused to himself. He looked at the guests milling about on the lawns, in black tie and designer dresses. "Hope your suit was pressed, Sam. This event is fancy."

"My suit looks fancy too," Sam replied, car pulling into the gravel driveway. He killed the engine and adjusted the rearview mirror so he could look in it, fixing his tie. "Black James Bond is a go."

Bucky smiled. "Break a leg, man." He never said good luck on missions, he was too superstitious.

He watched on his monitor as Sam approached the house. There was a guard detail: big men in black tie, hired muscle. They stopped Sam at the door and asked for his invitation in Italian.

It was always the moments before infiltration that made Bucky the most nervous. He reached over to his desk fan and turned up the speed, feeling the cool breeze on his face.

Luckily, Sam replied in perfect Italian, handing over his invitation already procured from the guest he was impersonating. It worked, and they let him in. Bucky exhaled in quiet relief.

Sam entered the house, gazing around at the surroundings. Bucky was able to see the décor too and when Sam muttered a quiet "Damn," under his breath, Bucky had to concur.

"Never on our salaries, bud," he said.

Sam chuckled in amusement. "Maybe we should switch sides."

"Sure, join up with next generation La Cosa Nostra?" Bucky said blithely. "Let's do it."

In truth, he was more than happy at his desk, in the basement of Shield HQ in Washington, D.C. Bucky's main human interaction was with people behind computer screens, and he was just fine with that, thanks very much.

That was why he was communications support at the desk, and Sam was the field agent. They made a good team, and Bucky was always happy to be Sam's mission support.

"'Kay," Sam said, as he wandered around the party indoors, "where am I going?"

"Door on your left," Bucky advised, checking the thermal imaging screen against digital blueprints of the building. "It's unlocked and leads upstairs. Create a diversion, slip inside. Locate De Luca's office."

Sam hummed the affirmative, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. He moved closer to the door, glancing at the security guard to make sure he wasn't watching too closely.

Then Sam's gaze lingered on a trio of pretty women in slinky dresses.

"Ladies," Sam said, raising his glass at them.

"You don't have time to flirt," Bucky hissed quietly.

Sam ignored him as he drained the glass, then admired it in the light. "Baccarat," he said. "Exquisite."

Bucky shook his head to himself, waiting for Sam to make his play.

Sam tossed his glass into the air, executing a move that had it landing on the floor near the women, as they gasped in confusion from the smash.

The security guard moved away to see what the commotion was, leaving the door unguarded and Sam able to slip inside.

"Okay," Bucky said, sitting up in his chair as he tapped on his keyboard. He zoomed in with the thermal imaging, checking Sam's surroundings. "You're clear to proceed, upstairs is empty."

"That's what I like to hear," Sam murmured, hurrying through the house.  
Bucky watched his progress on the monitors, checking the surveillance outside the house at the same time.  
"Found an office," Sam said, getting inside a room with a big desk. "I see a laptop and a cell phone."  
"Copy them quick and get out of there," Bucky instructed. He watched Sam attach Shield copying devices the size of credit cards, and the information started downloading onto Bucky's screen.

"Okay, I'm getting it," Bucky reported, watching the readouts. "I think we hit payload, buddy."

"Great," Sam said quietly. "How long till it's complete?"

"Thirty seconds," Bucky said, glancing at the other monitor. "Heads up, Sam, you got three incoming. Take them out."

"Roger," Sam whispered, drawing his gun and screwing on the silencer. It was loaded with tranqs, because this was supposed to be a non lethal mission.

Sam got behind the door and waited. Three security men burst in, Sam shooting the first two then having the wrestle the third when he grabbed Sam's gun hand.

Bucky watched Sam fighting onscreen, and checked the progress of the download. "Take him out, Sam," Bucky said, as Sam grunted in pain when the man knocked him into the wall.

"I'm trying," Sam huffed, delivering a kick to his opponent's stomach. This winded him enough for Sam to wrestle his gun around, aiming it at the man and shooting him with a tranq.

The fight was over.

"Download complete," Bucky informed him. "Get out of there, Sam. There's another staircase at the west side, head there."

Sam grabbed the copying devices, pocketing them as he exited the room. He dashed down the hallway. "Where?"

"Door on your left," Bucky advised, watching the screens. "Oh, wait, you got one coming up the stairs in a second."

Sam waited, and when the door opened he punched the guy out cold then dashed past him.

"Okay, doing good," Bucky said, checking the surveillance. "You can take the kitchen, but there's two hot on your tail."

"No problem," Sam said, running to the kitchen and surprising the staff there. A couple women ducked for cover as Sam reloaded his gun, then he grabbed a frying pan and waited at the open door. As the two security guards bustled into the room, Sam smacked one with the frying pan as he shot the other with a tranq.

"Yeah, like that," Sam said, dropping the frying pan and running through the kitchen. "I'm going left?"  
"No, l need you to go right," Bucky told him, "and head down the tunnel."

"Got it." Sam found the back way out of the property, slipping out the door. Bucky was able to exhale the breath he'd been holding. "That was..." a close one, he'd been about to say, as he stared at the monitor on the north side of the property: black SUVs were pulling in, and lots of bad guys with guns were getting out.

_Shit._

"Sam, run for it," Bucky instructed. "Head to the dock."  
"Dock. Excellent idea," Sam said, breaking into a run across the open lawns of the property, with raging gunmen hot on his tail.  
"De Luca's boat is at the end," Bucky explained as Sam headed for it then dived inside the speedboat.  
"Uh, there's no keys, Buck," Sam said, ducking for cover as bullets rained down on him.  
"The panel's on the lower left under the steering wheel," Bucky told him, tapping on his keyboard to zoom in. "You can hotwire it."

"l can't get to the wires if they're shooting at me!" Sam yelled over the noise.

"Then stay down and hold your ears," Bucky said, sliding his chair over to the red phone and lifting the receiver. "Lock on coordinates 43.16547, 27.94654," he said in a rush, "and fire, now!"

"Affirmative," the agent replied.

Bucky looked over to his monitors, watching the screens as the short range Shield missiles rained down from the sky and exploded on the lawn of the property. The gunmen were knocked clean off their feet with the force of the blast, leaving the dock free of fire.

Sam was able to get up, hotwire the boat, and speed out of there across the water.

"Close one!" he yelled, laughing in triumph. "Nice drone work, Buck!"

Bucky sagged in his seat with relief. "Just get those hard drive copies to Shield and get in your safe house so I can go have my lunch."

"Happy to!" Sam replied. "Hey, my birthday leave starts tomorrow! But I'll see you on Sunday, right?"  
"Wouldn't miss it, buddy," Bucky told him. "Wouldn't miss it."


	2. Two

Bucky went into work the next morning as per usual, carrying his bag on one shoulder, and his banana smoothie in hand.

He swiped himself past security and took the elevator to the basement, saying hi to the agents already at their desks. The early shift already had people in already, mid-mission: agents plugged into their headsets and talking to their agents onscreen.

Bucky's shift today was late morning through to the afternoon. He wondered who he'd get paired with today. Hopefully not Rumlow or Rollins. Bucky wasn't in the mood for having to translate that much Bro talk while on a mission.

He got to his desk and set down his drink. He put his bag on the floor, and was in the middle of removing his jacket when he heard, "Barnes!" barked at him from across the room, and he started in alarm.

He looked round and saw Director Fury gesture at him to follow. "Bring all your gear, Barnes. I need you in another room today."

He had a manila folder in hand, which likely held Bucky's mission details for the day.

"Uh, y-yessir," Bucky stammered, shrugging his jacket back on. He had to haul ass to collect the things he needed, including his ergonomic hand rest, his earpiece and mic headset, his desk fan, then balance all that with his bag and his drink.

Fury was already frowning by the time Bucky hustled over to him.

"Sorry, sir," Bucky murmured, as Fury looked at him with his one eye, black eye-patch over his other.

"Follow me," Fury said, swiping them out the side door to the secured area.

Only top level clearance was authorised out here. Bucky knew this and was curious what would be there. He was slightly disappointed to see a hallway virtually identical to the staff's hallway on the other side, and an elevator. Bucky had been hoping for something a little more exciting. A secret broom closet, perhaps.

Fury swiped them into the elevator. "Your security clearance has been temporarily upgraded for the next eight hours," Fury said. "Just use your regular key card as normal."

"Yessir," Bucky said, watching Fury press a button for two floors up. "Um, is it an emergency, sir?"

"Should be a milk run," Fury replied, side eyeing Bucky. "I picked you myself for this mission. You're one of the best field support agents we have."

"Oh," Bucky replied, floored at the compliment. "I, um... thanks, sir."

When the elevator arrived, Fury led the way down another non descript hallway, swiping them into a room.

"You'll be working from this office today," he said, going in first as the lights turned themselves on automatically.

Bucky looked around. So far, so normal: it was the same sort of set up they had in the basement for field support. Screens on the wall, currently off; one single desk with a _very_ nice leather chair, Bucky noted, and a computer set up that was just a little bit fancier than his one in the basement.

Bucky nodded. "I'm on my own for this?"

"You'll have a direct line to me if you need it," Fury said, then gave Bucky a look that dared him to need it.

Bucky swallowed. "Yessir, thank you, sir." He carefully set his stuff down onto the desk and chair. "Um, who am I with today?"

"It's your lucky day, agent," Fury said, handing Bucky the manila folder. "Today you'll be assisting Commander Rogers himself."

Bucky's eyes went wide, and he nearly dropped the folder. " _What?_ " he said. "Shouldn't someone else...?"

" _You're_ the agent for the job," Fury cut in. "Now, get yourself set up and read the briefing. I'm going up to the cafeteria to get myself a coffee, and I'll be back at..." He checked his watch. "Ten hundred hours, in time for you to open secure channels with Commander Rogers."

Bucky nodded wordlessly. "Yessir," he managed, as Fury swiped out of the room and left him there. "Oh, my God," he whispered to himself. "Okay, Barnes, get it together."

First things first, he took a few gulps of smoothie to fortify himself.

It wasn't that Bucky didn't think he could do his job, he _was_ a good agent. An excellent agent, actually. It was just... well... Commander Rogers was like a Shield celebrity. Everyone knew about him, even though it was rumoured he'd gone into retirement.

The Commander didn't age the same as normal people, on account of the special serum he'd been injected with decades ago as part of a government trial for super soldiers. The trials hadn't been a success until one Steven G. Rogers came along, and against all the odds had survived the trials and become virtually super human in strength and abilities.

His work at Shield since was the stuff of legend: even though most of it was redacted, hearsay and rumors still filtered through the Shield offices. Captain Rogers, later Commander Rogers, was a hero.

Of course it helped that he was _incredibly handsome_ to boot.

Bucky had seen the photos of the younger Captain Rogers, and he'd been a hunk then. All clean shaven and with short blond hair. He had baby blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and a dreamy square jaw. Standing at six foot three with a solid yet slim build, Captain Rogers was a head turner anywhere he went.

That was probably why Shield either had Rogers on Black Ops missions where he was in disguise and wouldn't draw the wrong sort of attention, or occasionally wheeled him out for press conferences to be the smiling, public face of Shield.

Bucky had joined Shield six years ago, and he'd never seen Rogers in person. Rogers had been a Commander for at least two decades by then, though was hardly seen in the Shield offices anymore and he never did press now. That's why some thought he'd retired, or rumors were he'd fallen out with Fury and didn't work for Shield anymore.

But apparently, Rogers did because Bucky was going to be working with him today.

God help him.

The most recent footage Bucky had seen of Commander Rogers was part of a training video for new recruits at Shield. And, oh boy, if Captain Rogers had been cute, well, Commander Rogers was scorching hot. Gone was the boyish good looks and eager smile, Steve Rogers had matured into one fine _daddy_ with a capital D, as far as Bucky was concerned.

The Commander's hair was longer and darker, grown out and pushed back off his face. He had a dark beard too, short and well kept. He didn't wear the stars and stripes uniform but a navy blue, almost black suit with a silver star at the chest. A promotional version of a Shield stealth suit, Bucky knew.

Damn, The Commander was hot.

And it was just Bucky's luck, because hot older men were his Kryptonite and now he had to try hold himself together and act like a professional.

"You can do this," he told himself, taking a seat in the fancy leather chair and plugging in his desk fan. He'd be needing that later, he was sure.

Bucky opened the manila folder and read through the mission details. Istanbul, Turkey. (One of Bucky's favorite cities, actually.) The briefing detailed a terrorist cell of white, western operatives, formerly Hydra, who specialised in framing foreign governments in the Middle East to incite western governments to retaliate.

Bucky had heard of this particular cell, led by a man named Wallace. They'd been giving Shield the run around for the last seven months. From overheard gossip in the Shield cafeteria, their operations were making Shield look bad. So if Shield had brought Commander Rogers out of retirement, shit just got real.

Bucky blew air out between his lips, reading the briefing. Intel had the cell, sixteen of them confirmed, holed up in a private hotel on the river only five hundred yards from a Turkish government building and more importantly, its small mosque attached.

The Shield Intel had had a tip off that the cell was planning to bomb the nineteen-hundred hours prayer that evening, with a specific target of a Turkish-Iranian diplomat, Hasan Golshiri.

Bucky checked his watch, calculating the time difference between Washington and Istanbul.

Shit, they only had one hour until this bombing was due to take place. It was already nearing eighteen hundred hours in Istanbul.

Talk about throwing him in the deep end.

Bucky got to work. He'd just have to treat this like any other Shield op he was on. He woke the computer up from idle and punched in his passcode. Once he was through, the various monitors lit up with surveillance.

Bucky adjusted his glasses, looking at the screens and familiarising himself with the cameras. He had access to security surveillance inside public buildings and also out on the street, plus the eyes of two undercover Shield operatives; one stationed in the government building and one outside the hotel.

Those operatives would have their own field support agents in their ears, but Bucky could speak to them if he needed to by patching into their channel. He knew his field agent, Commander Rogers, would be taking point, so any Shield agent in the vicinity would be backup if they needed.

"Okay, okay," Bucky told himself, spreading out the briefing photos over his desk. He had surveillance shots of Golshiri, the diplomat they had to protect, and currently the Shield agent in his building had eyes on him. That was good. They just had to keep him out of harm's way until Commander Rogers had contained the threat.

The hotel just along the river was the mission target: take the cell out there, minimize civilian casualties. Bucky had street surveillance only for the hotel at this stage. As it was dark outside he called in a couple of Shield drones from the air to give him some backup.

He could also use the drones to get thermal imaging, which he executed by tapping his instructions for the drones into the keyboard. He watched their POV approach on his monitors above, and when he got the thermal imaging read on the hotel he ran it through Shield's identification program. The orange, human-shaped blobs onscreen starting pinging with identified targets, mostly known and wanted criminals on the Shield database.

A couple of unknowns too, but that was pretty standard when dealing with a group this size. Cells recruited newbies all the time.

Bucky had just gotten most of the thermal blobs identified when Fury entered the room, coffee cup in hand.

"You all set up?" he asked, coming to stand behind Bucky as he checked the monitors.

"Yessir," Bucky replied. "Got eyes everywhere except inside the hotel."

"Yeah, it's privately owned and they must've taken down the security cameras inside," Fury replied. "Don't worry, just get Rogers in there and let him take care of it."

Bucky nodded silently.

This was it, then. Fury would connect Commander Rogers to Bucky, and the mission would likely start right away.

They didn't have a lot of time to spare.

"Okay," Fury said, and leaned in to borrow the keyboard. "Let's connect to Rogers." He tapped in the code to open a secure channel.

Bucky fitted the Shield earpiece around his ear, pulling the little mic down to his mouth. "Ready, sir," he told Fury, switching on the desk mic too so Fury could speak.

"Come in, Commander," Fury said.

Bucky waited, watching the monitors. The main monitor for the field agent's POV was still dark, which meant the Commander hadn't put his contact lens in yet.

"Cutting it a bit fine, aren't we," said a deep and sexy voice in Bucky's ear.

Bucky's back went ramrod straight. That was him, he thought. Commander Rogers.

"Look, it's one of those days," Fury replied flatly.

Bucky watched as the main monitor flickered, coming to life. It showed a room, small yet nicely furnished, no windows. Looked like the cabin of a boat, perhaps.

"When is it not one of those days?" Rogers sassed, and looked down to pull one some leather fingerless gloves.

Bucky was used to looking through the eyes of field agents, but this was something special. More like looking through the eyes of a celebrity.

A very sexy celebrity.

Bucky pressed his lips together and tried not to fidget in his seat. He was so excited, he could barely contain himself.

"Are you ready, Commander?" Fury asked tersely. "Do a visual identification so we can start this op, already."

Rogers chuckled lowly, the sound of it travelling into Bucky's brain and lodging itself there to be replayed again later. Then Rogers walked through the cabin and into the bathroom, looking at the mirror above the sink.

Bucky had to stifle a gasp. The Commander was gorgeous. His dark hair was streaked with grey now, with a salt and pepper beard. He'd turned into a silver fox since Bucky had last seen photos of him.

Hello, Kryptonite, Bucky thought.

The Commander had on an all black stealth suit, reinforced with body armor. There was no silver star at his chest, but as he turned in the light Bucky noticed a star shaped indentation there.

"Satisfied?" Rogers asked, smiling as he pulled on a form fitting black helmet with the under-chin strap.

Bucky had always liked the helmet feature, it showed off Rogers' amazing jawline.

"Immensely," Fury said. "I'm going to introduce you to Agent Barnes here, then I'll let you do what you do."

"Janitorial services for you, apparently," Rogers replied, turning away from the mirror. "I'm only doing this as a favor, remember."

"Yes, I know," Fury said tiredly. "I'll owe you one. Anyway, this is Agent Barnes. Agent Barnes, this is the pain in my ass otherwise known as Commander Rogers." He clapped Bucky on the shoulder. "Good luck, agent."

"Wait, you're not staying?" Bucky asked, quickly adding, "Sir," because Fury raised an eyebrow at him.

"You can handle it," Fury replied. "I currently have four other situations to oversee, so only contact me if you accidentally blow something up."

With that, he swiped himself out of the room, leaving Bucky staring after him.


	3. Three

"We'll be fine," Rogers' voice said in Bucky's ear. "Barnes, right?"

Bucky cleared his throat, facing his monitors. "Yessir," he said. "Sorry, sir."

Rogers chuckled again. "I don't work for Shield any more, son. No need to call me sir."

Bucky opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He wasn't sure what to say. Luckily Rogers couldn't see him being a moron, the visual was one way.

"What's your name?" Rogers asked, as Bucky watched him check the utility belt at his slim waist.

"Agent Barnes," Bucky replied.

"Your first name," Rogers said, his voice quiet but firm and sending a delicious shiver down Bucky's spine.

"It's Bucky, sir."

"Bucky." It sounded like Rogers was smiling. "Alright, Bucky. You can call me Steve. Now what do you say we get this show on the road?"

"I, um, yessir," Bucky said automatically as he thought, _holy shit, first name terms_. "I mean, yes, Steve." He checked the monitors so he could provide his field operative with the best support possible.

Bucky had satellite imagery from overhead, plus the Shield drones, so he could measure the distance to the target and keep track of Rogers.

Steve, he corrected himself.

Judging by the blip on the radar screen, Steve was on a boat some hundred yards down the Bosphorus strait.

"How are you approaching the target?" he asked, watching Steve's monitor as it showed him walking up on deck. The stars were bright in the night sky, and the buildings all along the bank lit up in the dark.

"Water," Steve said. "I have a propeller pack here. You're gonna have to tell me when to make the turn."

"Roger," Bucky agreed. "Please check Comms in the water water before you set that thing off. I know how fast they go."

Steve chuckled at that. "I sure do. How old are you, Bucky?"

"Me?" Bucky hadn't been expecting a personal question. "I, um. I'm twenty-seven."

Steve hummed lightly, and Bucky watched him prepare the tank of air that would give him propulsion underwater.

"Why?" Bucky asked.

"Just curious," Steve replied. "You've seen kills on camera before, right?"

"Yeah," Bucky said. "Like, a lot. Don't worry about me, sir. I mean, Steve. I can handle it."

"You're gonna need to remember something, Bucky," Steve said, walking to the edge of the deck and looking down into the shiny dark water. "When you're watching what I do, it may be faster paced than what you're used to. Support agents used to report getting motion sickness looking at my screen too long, so just be aware of that, okay?"

"Uh, sure," Bucky said, trying to remain calm. He reached over and turned on his desk fan, tilting it to fan his face. The cool breeze helped some. "I'll be fine," he said. "Look out for yourself, okay?"

"No worries about that," Steve replied, slipped on a pair of night vision goggles. "Alright, I'm going in."

He stepped off the boat into the water, the screen showing a lot of green from the goggles now. There was a change in screen when Steve broke the surface again, showing the night sky.

"Comms check," Bucky said, edging closer on his seat. The mission was about to start.

"Loud and clear," Rogers confirmed. "I have to put the rebreather in. You tell me when to make the turn."

"Roger," Bucky replied. "Go show them who's boss, Commander."

This earned him a hearty chuckle before Steve fitted the rebreather and went underwater again.

Bucky checked Steve's progress on his various monitors, tracking his location via satellite. The small tank Steve had for propulsion was quiet, and a standard Shield aid in the field to save agents from wasting energy to swim.

"Closing in," Bucky said, watching Steve's progress onscreen. "Sixty yards, fifty..."

He counted down as Steve approached the hotel on the riverbank.

"Make the turn, make the turn," Bucky said firmly, as Steve came up on the hotel.

Steve made the turn. Standard procedure was ditching the tank underwater, and switching to manual swim to make a stealth approach.

Bucky remained quiet as Steve swam in, and when he broke the water Bucky could see on the main monitor again. The night vision showed green in that awful 'Paranormal Activity' filter that took some getting used to.

Bucky had outside surveillance on his other monitors too. "All clear," he told Steve, speaking quietly but clearly. "Two guards at your one o'clock, one hundred and fifty yards. You'll be covered by the trees if you go now."

"Roger that," Steve murmured, and pushed through the undergrowth.

Bucky hated the bit before all the action started; it was the worst on his nerves. Luckily Steve had an easy route to the building, and Bucky guided him past the armed guards on patrol and to the back door.

Through Steve's POV onscreen, Bucky watched him assess the door lock. Pretty standard door, and as Steve burned through the lock with a miniature laser from his utility belt, Bucky checked the thermal imaging for where everyone in property was.

"Keep it quiet," he informed Steve, "you've got the first room clear, but there's five guys in the next room, I'm going to guess playing cards as they're all around a table. Armed, too."

"Roger," Steve replied, as the lock was cut. "I'm in." He let himself in the door, not making a sound. "Gimme a run down."

"Nine o'clock, five, armed," Bucky listed off, "ten o'clock, two more. Second floor, three o'clock, the final six men, including the bomb, in the same room."

"Got it," Steve replied, then dashed off. The POV screen bounced up and down as he ran, heading for the stairs.

Now all Bucky could do was watch and have Steve's back.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth, eyes glued to the screen. Bucky watched as Steve crouched by the door, creaking it open to roll in a Shield flash bomb. As it went off, flashing bright behind the closed door, Bucky heard the shouts over Comms. Steve burst into the room and threw himself in, right arm out as a blue energy shield appeared over it.

The terrorist cell didn't stand a chance. Bucky watched in awe as Steve battered through the dazed and confused men there, smashing them left and right with his fist and his shield.

He didn't even use a gun.

Steve whipped through the six upstairs, located their bomb and took a device from his utility belt. Placing the device over the home-made bomb, Steve took a step back and activated it. The device expanded with nanite technology, unfolding a glowing barrier over and around the bomb to contain and neutralise it.

"Bomb contained," Steve reported as he scanned the room. "No further bombs detected, headed back down."

"Roger." Bucky glanced at his other screen, still monitoring the men downstairs. "Obviously they heard you, so they're all rushing up the stairs right now. Presume they are armed."

"Not for long," Steve said, unpinning a smoke grenade and tossing it at the stairs.

Bucky heard the shouts and coughing from the men over Comms, then watched onscreen as Steve threw himself down the stairs, smashing into the men there like a bowling bowl knocking down pins.

And it was a strike.

"Huh," Bucky said, pleasantly surprised. "There's... no more threats," he said, double checking thermal imaging and the surveillance outside. "You are clear, sir. I mean, Steve."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it," Steve said with a chuckle. He removed the night vision goggles. "Send in a clean up team."

"Roger that." Bucky leaned across his desk, opening a channel to the Shield agent outside. "Clean up at target required," Bucky reported. "Threat is neutralised. Bomb containment needs to be on site now."

"Confirmed," she replied.

Bucky closed the channel, and kept monitoring the scene. He was still on backup duty until Steve relieved him.

"Clean up crew inbound," Bucky said. "Are you staying?"

"Negative," Steve replied. "I'll lurk on the perimeter for a bit, but I'm wet and I'd like to get changed as soon as possible."

Bucky suppressed a smile. "I bet," he said.

There was a few minutes of quiet while Steve waited on the sidelines in the dark, obscured by some trees, while he watched the Shield crew move in. The clean up crews were usually disguised as cleaning companies, in this case a laundry van and agents in overalls.

Bucky checked his other monitor, where the Shield bomb disposal unit took charge of the bomb and confirmed it was contained. They'd move it out to a secure location and detonate it later.

The rest of the Shield agents detained the terrorist cell, putting them in cuffs and escorting them off the premises.

"Over half of them are alive," Bucky said, kind of awestruck. "Shield should be able to question them."

"Yeah, I don't kill unless I have to," Steve replied. "All kind of depends on the job, but this was a piece of cake."

"For you, maybe," Bucky said. "I do jobs like this with regular agents and it isn't so easy. Not without backup."

"Speaking of backup," Steve said, "you were great, by the way."

Bucky instantly blushed from tip to toe, and he was so relieved that Steve couldn't see him right now.

"Thanks," he said. "I, um. I was a free agent today because my regular partner is on leave. It's his birthday."

"Sam, right?" Steve said. "Yeah, he's a good guy."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, then frowned. "Wait, you know him?"

"We've worked together," Steve replied cryptically.

And, oh, Bucky was definitely going to be bringing this up with Sam later. He couldn't believe Sam had been holding out on him like this.

"So does this mean you'll be at Sam's birthday barbecue on Sunday?" Bucky teased.

"Maybe," Steve replied, and Bucky heard the smile in his voice. "Depends how work is."

"What do you do for work?" Bucky asked.

"Well, technically I'm retired," Steve said. "Alright, Bucky, if Shield has this covered, I'm heading back to my boat. This suit is starting to chafe."

"Oh, sure." Bucky checked all his monitors, but everything was tied up and going along according to procedure. "I'll let you go and I can send my report to Fury."

"Hang on," Steve said, as he began walking along the riverbank. "You don't have to go just yet, do you?"

"Um, no?" Bucky said. "You need additional support getting back on your boat?"

"No, I'm fine." Steve chuckled lowly. "But you wanna keep me company?"

Bucky's eyebrows hiked up.

_Oh._

"Sure," he said weakly.

_Whatever you want, Commander._


	4. Four

"Tell me about you?" Steve asked.

"About me?" Bucky looked left, then right, gazing around the office and trying to think what to say.

What about him? He was a nerd? No, don't say that, he thought. Desperately single? No, don't say that either.

A horndog for older guys? Well... it was true.

Say something, quick, he thought. Something witty, something good.

"I'm gay," Bucky blurted out, then winced at himself.

"Yeah, I got that," Steve said calmly. "And from all those sir's earlier I'm willing to bet you're a bottom too."

Bucky reached up and positioned his mic away from his mouth, hoping Steve didn't hear the desperate little sound that escaped his throat.

Get it together, Bucky, he told himself. Be suave, or something.

He cleared his throat lightly, and positioned his mic back at his mouth. "You could say that," Bucky replied playfully. "And if you're going to make presumptions––"

"Educated guesses," Steve cut in.

"Alright, educated guesses about me," Bucky amended with a grin, "then it's only fair I return the favor."

"You wanna make an educated guess about me?" Steve asked, sounding amused by this.

"It's only fair," Bucky told him.

"Alright," Steve agreed. "Hit me with your best shot."

Bucky grinned to himself. "Okay, so by observation of the dick waving you got into with an authority figure earlier, you like being in charge and don't like being told what to do. My guess is, you're a power top that doesn't mind a younger partner as long as said partner is prepared to be submissive. Am I getting close?"

"Not bad." Steve chuckled lowly. "You got all that from thirty-five minutes, huh?"

"There may be a certain amount of projection involved," Bucky said, a grin on his face. "Throw in a bit of light bondage as a kink, and you're the T.P."

"T.P.?" Steve asked.

"Total package," Bucky clarified, as Steve laughed.

"Good to know," Steve replied. "Can you stay in my ear as I get back to my boat?"

"Sure," Bucky agreed.

Like he'd say no?

Bucky waited patiently (maybe not so patiently) as Steve returned to his boat. He typed up a lightning fast report on the mission, but he didn't send it yet. He wanted to drag this out a little longer.

Steve got back onto his boat, pulling himself up dripping wet on deck. Bucky was pleased he was safe now, it meant he could relax a little.

"Are you leaving the area or remaining?" Bucky asked, because Steve's safety was important.

"I suppose I should vacate the area," Steve replied. He was below deck, busy peeling off his outer armor and utility belt. He dropped the expensive equipment onto a towel laid out on the floor. Next he toed off his boots and left them all there. "I can take the boat a mile up river. Is that satisfactory?"

"Affirmative," Bucky replied, watching Steve take to the boat's controls. He smiled to himself as he added a cheeky, "Sir."

He heard Steve's chuckle again in his ear. "You're lucky you're not here," Steve told him, as he drove the boat off along the river.

"Why's that?" Bucky asked. "Would you do things to me? Show me who's boss?"

"Little boy," Steve said, "you have no idea."

Bucky squirmed in his seat, delighted. "Actually, I have a few ideas," he murmured, waiting for Steve to get the damn boat at a safe distance. "Do you have a shower on board?"

"I do," Steve replied, killing the engine and dropping anchor. "You're thirsty, aren't you."

Bucky shrugged to himself, resting his chin in his hands on the desk as he watched the monitor. "I am. Also, you're very my type."

"Glad to hear it," Steve replied casually. He walked through the boat, back below deck again.

Bucky watched it all onscreen, gazing around at the interior. "Say, is this your own yacht?"

"It belongs to a friend," Steve replied. "I was scuba diving in Saros Bay when Fury interrupted my vacation."

"But you don't work for Shield anymore?" Bucky asked.

"I don't," Steve said. "But a bomb going off nearby would've interrupted my vacation even more, so I said yes. Pro bono."

"So nice of you," Bucky mused, his eyes glued to the screen. Steve was starting to undress.

It wasn't exactly a striptease, the POV whipped back and forth a little too fast for that. Still, Bucky drank in every glimpse of skin exposed from the stealth suit as Steve peeled himself out of it, glancing down at his body as he did.

"Have you got a mirror?" Bucky asked. "Or could you, like, focus for a second?"

"Oh, I forgot," Steve said. "You got motion sickness yet?"

"I'm fine," Bucky said, his eyes like saucers.

"Let me shower first," Steve told him, flinging off his clothes and going to the bathroom. "Then I'll give you a show."

"Mmmm," Bucky replied, and glanced over at his office door. He hoped to God that Fury didn't walk in right now. That would certainly kill the boner in his pants if that happened.

Onscreen, Steve turned on the shower then got inside the cubicle. He began soaping himself down slowly, eyes on his hands as he ran the sponge over creamy white skin and muscles upon muscles. Bucky's own little peepshow.

"Jeez, you're ripped," Bucky murmured. "Do you have any injuries, by the way?"

"Few bruises," Steve said. "They'll be gone in an hour."

"Wow," Bucky murmured, gazing at the screen. "I mean, that's good."

When Steve looked down and ran the sponge over his thighs and his dick, Bucky held his breath. That was a very nice dick, Bucky thought. Very nice indeed.

"You've gone pretty quiet," Steve mused, dropping the sponge. "You okay?"

"Mm-hm," Bucky confirmed. "Just died and went to heaven, don't mind me."

Steve laughed lightly. Still looking down, he took his dick in hand and started pumping the half hard shaft, working the soap into a lather.

Bucky held in a whimper.

"Like what you see?" Steve asked him.

Bucky nodded automatically. "Yes," he squeaked out. "Damn, wish I was in there with you."

"Pretend you are," Steve instructed. "What would you do?"

"Get on my knees and suck you off," Bucky said, because, obviously. "Let you pull my hair, too."

"Sounds nice," Steve replied, hand still jerking his fat cock, now fully erect. "Just picture that, Bucky. You're on your knees, sucking me off. I'm going to come in your mouth."

Bucky whimpered out loud, couldn't hold it back. "Please," he begged, watching Steve's hand jerk the shaft and twist on the upward motion. "Can you call me a good boy?"

"You're such a good boy, Bucky," Steve husked out, his hand a blur on his cock with the motion. "I'm gonna fill your mouth and paint your face with my come."

"Oh, God," Bucky whispered, "please, Steve, I want it."

"Ah, here it comes," Steve gasped, and then he was coming, dick spurting out white ribbons of come and painting the glass wall of the shower.

Bucky watched avidly, listening to Steve's soft moans and his heavy breathing.

"That was awesome," Bucky murmured, eyes drinking it all in. His own dick was hard in his pants, but he was okay with that. Bucky had a little bit of a voyeur kink anyway.

"You enjoyed that?" Steve asked, a little breathless.

"Hell yeah," Bucky replied. He watched Steve rinse himself, and the cubicle clean, then switch off the shower and towel off. "Is there a mirror?" Bucky asked.

"In the bedroom," Steve replied, as he finished towelling himself off. He picked up a comb from the sink and ran it through his hair.

"Can you go and have a look?" Bucky asked. "I wanna see you. Please?"

"Since you asked so nicely." Steve headed into the bedroom, turning on low lighting that cast a soft glow.

Bucky spotted the bed, a nice big double, and a mirror on the closet wall. Finally, he was going to get a good look at the full package. Bucky watched as Steve looked at the mirror, walking toward it.

And, damn, Bucky thought, Steve may have been an older man but he was absolutely ripped all over. And, Bucky noticed, still hard.

"Happy?" Steve asked, taking a moment to pose in the mirror for Bucky's benefit.

"You're still hard," Bucky pointed out.

"Oh, yeah." Steve walked over to the bed, the screen POV shaking about as he got onto it and laid down. Bucky saw then ceiling, then a clear shot of Steve's naked body as he reached a hand down himself and wrapped it around his thick shaft. "I don't have any refractory period," Steve informed him casually.

Bucky blinked. "What?"

"Yeah, once I'm hard..." Steve shifted on the bed, got comfortable and started lazily jerking his cock. "I stay hard for hours."

A tiny, needy whimper escaped Bucky's throat. He was sure Steve heard it, as he chuckled softly.

"Unless I can come a few times," Steve said. "Then it'll go down."

"Oh, I see," Bucky said. "Would you like some support in that area, Commander?"

"Sure," Steve replied, the smile back in his voice. "I'd like that."

Bucky liked to think that he provided his field agents with the best support he could give them, and Commander Rogers was no exception.

In fact, Bucky did his absolute best to provide Steve with the most enthusiastic support he could give, and then some. He talked low and dirty into Steve's ear, talking Steve through two more orgasms, watching Steve jerk himself off on the bed and paint his stomach with come.

It was quite simply the best phone sex (video sex?) Bucky had ever had, even though he hadn't come yet and was ready to shoot off like a rocket.

Steve had offered, but Bucky wasn't about to get his dick out inside Shield's office. He'd wait until he was in private.

After Steve had cleaned up and gotten under the covers, Bucky talked to him a little more; soft sweet nothings to help the guy feel sleepy. Then they said goodbye and signed off.

And not a moment too soon, as Shield Command sent a message asking for Bucky's report. He clicked send, and his report went straight over.

That was cutting it close.

He closed off the feeds that weren't in use any more, and returned the Shield drones that he'd forgotten all about and were still on standby, whoops. Then he locked his computer and swiped himself out of the room, fully intending to sneak off for a bit of personal time.

Fury caught him in the hallway, on his way upstairs, asking if everything went okay. Bucky managed to nod and put on a professional air.

"Like clockwork, sir," he replied, side eyeing the gents toilets nearby. "Um, if you'll excuse me, I really need the bathroom."

"All those smoothies, Barnes," Fury chastised him. "Anyway, take an early lunch. You've earned it."

"Thank you, sir," Bucky said with a smile. "I dare say I have."


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of an epilogue. Hope you like it!

Sunday, noon, Bucky drove to Sam's house just outside the city.

He parked down the road, parking space being limited today with all the cars parked along Sam's road already. Probably his family and friends from out of town come for Sam's world famous barbecue. (World famous, as according to Sam.)

Bucky took Sam's gift wrapped package from the backseat, along with the bag of booze he'd brought along, and locked his car up. It was a warm, bright and sunny day. The sort of weather that made Bucky wish he'd gone for those light adjusting lenses in his glasses, but being an office nerd who worked in a basement it'd seemed a waste of money. Now here he was, squinting against sunlight like a little mole.

He found his way to Sam's house, walking up the steps and ringing the doorbell.

He probably could've just walked around back; Bucky heard the pop music playing faintly from the backyard and the happy sounds of people chatting.

Bucky wasn't terribly good at the whole socialising thing. Sam being one of the few field agents he actually spent time with, because Sam was great.

Bucky fidgeted in place, tugging at his shirt collar.

Finally someone answered the door, pulling it open. Bucky was pleasantly surprised to see Monica Rambeau: Captain at Sword, a Shield affiliated agency. She smiled brightly when she saw him.

"Hey, stranger."

"Monica!" Bucky beamed at her. "Oh, my God! You're here! What a surprise!"

Not really, but he was pleased she was here all the same.

"Yeah, I made it." She stepped aside to invite him in. "I was in the kitchen getting another drink when I heard the bell. Why didn't you just come around back?"

"Uh... yes, I should've." Bucky laughed nervously. "Sorry." He followed Monica through to the kitchen. "You want some help or anything?"

Monica smiled as she removed the bottle caps from two bottles of beer. "I'm good. Beer?"

Bucky shook his head. "I can't drink beer, Mon." He set his bag of booze on the kitchen counter, bottles clinking together. "I brought shit to make a rum punch. You know I gotta bring the gay."

Monica laughed. "Hey, I'll get in on that later. I'm just helping Sam with the grill right now so I can't get too drunk."

"Yeah, where is the birthday boy?" Bucky asked, picking up Sam's gift and following her out the back door.

The backyard was buzzing, full of people milling about, chatting and swaying with the music. Looked like a great party, but Bucky's personal idea of hell because he sucked at parties generally.

He plastered on a smile as they headed over to the enormous dude-sized grill on the patio with Sam holding court there, apron on, tongs in hand.

Monica went over and handed him his beer. Sam thanked her with a smile as the two shared a lingering look.

Bucky stood there awkwardly for a moment, wondering if he should pick another time to bother Sam.

Then Sam noticed him and raised his arms, coming at Bucky full speed. "Bucky!" he exclaimed, enveloping him in a fast hug then slapping his back. "You made it! Damn, I forgot how white you are! I'm gonna need my sunglasses."

Bucky adjusted his glasses and smiled. "Ha, ha. Yes, I made it." He offered Sam the gift. "Happy birthday, Sam."

"Ooh, what's this?" Sam grinned at him. "Bottle shaped?"

Bucky smiled too as Sam unwrapped it. He whistled when he saw the vintage Scotch.

"Nice," he said, patting Bucky on the back. "Ha, ha. My man. We'll have glass later, you and me. Hey, you hungry? I'm almost ready to serve this thing."

"Sure, let me help," Bucky offered.

"See that?" Sam laughed, glancing at Monica. "My man. Always has my back."

"I hear you're quite the team," Monica said, drinking her beer. "However do you cope when Sam's on leave?"

"Oh, it's terrible," Bucky deadpanned. "I missed him so much yesterday."

"Hope they didn't pair you with Rumlow, man." Sam made a face. "Can't stand that guy."

"Nah." Bucky laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Actually, they put me with..."

"Sam," Monica said, as the grill started to smoke.

"Shit!" Sam had to tend the barbecue, turning the burgers over.

Bucky figured he'd just bring it up later. No big deal. He helped Sam with the grill, helping him plate up hamburgers and hot dogs, corn on the cobs and vegetable kebabs with halloumi squares to the guests.

There were a lot of families here with kids, so that meant lots of noise and chatter. Bucky felt like he could do with some social lubrication before he did any real socialising, so he forwent any food for the first round and excused himself to go whip up some fancy cocktails.

He escaped to the kitchen, enjoying some relative peace and quiet for the time being.

Bucky unpacked his bag of booze on the counter: white rum, dark rum, and cartons of fruit juice. It was the easiest drink to make without any mixing equipment.

Before he started, he cleaned the countertop and put dirty plates away into Sam's dishwasher. Bucky had been at Sam's before, although not with so many people here. Bucky liked a clean and tidy kitchen.

God, he was such a geek, he thought. Everyone else was outside in the sun, and here he was hiding in the kitchen.

Bucky found some clean glasses, ice from the icebox, and he got to measuring the first rum to pour: dark. He'd brought plastic stirrers, and he dropped one into each glass.

He was so fixed on his task that he didn't notice anyone else in the kitchen with him until a voice behind him spoke.

"Whatcha making?"

Bucky recognised that voice.

He spun round in surprise, coming face to face with Steve Rogers, standing right there and smiling at him.

God, he was tall, Bucky thought, looking up into his handsome face.

"Um," he said, dazed, "it's rum punch."

"Sounds good," Steve said casually, and came to lean on the counter. "Got one for me?"

"I... sure," Bucky said, although in his mind he was thinking back to random Captain Rogers facts he'd memorised over the years, one being that he couldn't get drunk since the super serum made his metabolism burn four times faster than the average human.

And now nestled in his brain was the newer fact he'd discovered for himself, that Steve Rogers had no refractory period.

_Hnng._

Bucky tried not to stare at the man like a star struck fan staring at their idol, and went back to making the drinks.

Steve was dressed casually, like an all American wet dream in form fitting jeans, a red and black check shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves and open at the front to show off a tight white top underneath. The white top clung to his curvy pectoral muscles and his slim waist.

Bucky had tried really hard not to look but he was only human. His hands knocked over one of the glasses because he hadn't been paying attention, but he managed to catch it before it spilled too much.

"You okay?" Steve asked, as Bucky mopped up the spillage.

"Uh, yeah," Bucky said. "Sorry, I'm just a bit surprised."

Steve tilted his head as he looked at Bucky. "Good surprise, or bad surprise?"

"Good surprise!" Bucky hurried to say. "Definitely, very much a good surprise."

A bright smile spread over Steve's face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with hints of crow's feet. He was the most handsome man Bucky had ever seen with his own two eyes.

"What d'you say," Steve began, "that we finish these drinks and take them out to Sam, then get ourselves a hotdog?" His smile turned into a grin. "You look like the kind of guy that goes for a nice, big, juicy sausage."

Bucky broke into a smile. "You read my mind," he replied. "And, yeah. I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (And they lived happily ever after, the end.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave me a comment if you enjoyed it :D
> 
> (Link to [Bottom Bucky discord](https://discord.gg/cfdkvwcU8N).)


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